ever (hair)d of me?

i cut my hair today

and the funny thing is you didn't even notice. 

the sink was spitting like a young vein, 

choking embarrassment embalmed in a cracked faucet. 

it made do with the people pleasing prescription. 

take one, or drain the whole bottle, 

strain yourself under the has been headache, 

could have been complimented-ache, 

should have been scratching incantations under the sheets and under your scalp-ache. 

it's better than the bleach i bought. 

any vigilante would be proud of the way i picked these locks. 

the fringes of counterfeit, 

laundered over scissors and a sink, blocked. 

perhaps i was trying to pawn it all off to the highest bidder? 

"put your hands up, look me in the eyes, and tell me where the money is" 

because now my shoulders are cold. 

they're feathered with a touch i'd rather have festering on my chest. 

hostage situation gone rogue, 

who the fuck cares? 

i'm not one to reconsider, 

but god, i hope it grows quicker than the time it takes to runyourfingersthroughitagain. 

i just felt like cutting more than dread desires from my head 

so we could pose as mannequins by the same manufacturer, 

cast in the same fractures, 

this is what you get when you listen to your bedhead 

over your heart. 

we never did pay much attention to each other.

i'll probably give it another trim

before you don't notice it again.